


Booty

by 3988Akasha



Series: Friendship Chronicles [15]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles and Bass have been friends forever...and Miles wishes Bass would say no to a dare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Booty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts).



> I totally blame this gif set for this little installment.
> 
>  
> 
> [Military Booty](http://3988akasha.tumblr.com/post/42771950063/devotee101-pimpmaster-hustledaddy)

“Matheson, man, you gotta come see this.”

Miles looked up from where he’d been cleaning his weapon and met Ashburn’s eager gaze.

“What is it?”

“It’s Sebastian, man. He’s well, you’ve just gotta come see it, man.”

The barrel clattered to the table as Miles stood to his feet. He’d known something had been off with Bass earlier in the night, but he’d figured the guy needed some time to himself. The other men in his unit moved out of his way as he got closer to their room. He slid to a stop in front of the door, eyes wide.

Bass was in the middle of the room, wearing only his uniform bottoms and was performing a booty dance to rival any performed by any other person. Ever. _Bootylicious_ blared through the speakers of someone’s stereo and the men were offering encouraging cat calls and a couple of them were sticking money in the waist of Bass’ pants. Miles bit his knuckle to keep from breaking into raucous laughter, not wanting to break this moment. He glanced at Ashburn and raised his eyebrow in silent question.

“Someone dared him to dance.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “How many has he had?”

Ashburn shook his head. “Don’t know.”

“Damnit, Bass.”

Bass continued to shake his hips and other parts of his anatomy that Miles couldn’t think about with a room full of Marines in his room. When the song ended, Bass turned around and his smile widened when he saw Miles leaning against the door jam.

“Miles!”

With a smile, Miles started clapping, joining the others as they expressed their varying levels of perverse enjoyment.

“Alright, guys,” Miles called. “Out.”

Smiles still on their faces, the men filed out of the room. Ashburn was the last to leave and Miles nodded his head once in thanks. Miles closed the door and walked over to Bass, watching him pick the bills out of his waist, a confused smile on his face.

“What’s this?” he held the money out to Miles.

“Payment for your services, it would seem.”

Bass scrunched his face and placed the money in Miles hand. Miles only just caught him as the copious amount of liquor caught up with Bass’ equilibrium. Together, they slid to the ground, Bass cradled in Miles’ arms. He ran his fingers through Bass’ still too short hair, even though it was starting to grow back a bit, and kissed the top of his head.

“What happened?”

Bass burrowed further into Miles arms and Miles closed his eyes, fearing the answer.

“I – I’m scared, Miles.”

Miles bit his lip. “I’m scared, too.”

Bass looked up at him, eyes wide. “No, you’re not. You’re never scared.”

Miles didn’t think it was fair for someone as drunk as Bass to speak in complete sentences.

“I am though. It’s natural. We’ve never been deployed before, but we don’t have to be scared.”

“Really?”

“I know I won’t be because you’ve got my back and I know you won’t need to be because I’ve got yours.”

Miles wanted to look away from the emotion in Bass’ eyes, the unending trust. He meant what he said; he’d have Bass’ back forever. That’s not what bothered him. He knew Bass would watch his back. That’s not what bothered him either. It was fear. His fear. He wasn’t afraid of battle, of dying, of killing. Not really. No, he was afraid of failing Bass. He was afraid of breaking his promise. Afraid he’d screw up and let something happen to Bass. He wasn’t god, and he couldn’t control anything, but damn if he wasn’t going to try.

“Hey,” Bass whispered as he gently touched Miles’ face. “Stop worrying. I know you’ll take care of me. Just like I’ll take care of you.”

Miles smiled and shook his head. He should know better than to keep his thoughts from Bass. It never worked.

“Let’s get you into bed, Marine.”

Bass mumbled profanities about Miles’ lineage as he helped him stagger to his feet. On base, they usually maintained the pretense necessary to stay in the Corps. Tonight though, Miles didn’t care. He pulled his shirt over his head, his boots long since removed, and pulled Bass into bed with him. It was easier to breathe with Bass snuggled up against him. He kissed Bass head again and fell into a deeper sleep than he deserved. 

**Author's Note:**

> The feels just sort of happened.


End file.
